Page 15 of Ground Truth

The simple act was a test of sorts. How badly did Rush want his new heart?

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Chapter 9

The envelope symbolized Rush’s willingness to kill another human for his own selfish purposes. Some men would never do such a thing.

Rush wasn’t one of those men.

He snatched the envelope like it might magically disappear if he waited one full second.

“We’ve scheduled your surgery for tomorrow morning. Details are included along with your preoperative instructions,” Brand said, hiding a smile as he finished the last bite of his lobster. “We’ll confirm your wire transfers tonight at eight o’clock local time. Assuming all financial requirements have been satisfied, our limo will pick you up tomorrow morning at five a.m.”

Rush opened the envelope and skimmed its contents quickly before sliding it into his pocket. “This is all satisfactory to me.”

“Do you want to know more about your heart?” Brand asked. “The donor’s health history? Age? Sex? Race? Substance abuse? Prior heart issues? Anything like that?”

Rush’s eyes widened. “Why would I?”

Brand shrugged. “Surgery carries risks.”

“When the donor dies, you’ve confirmed that her family will not come back on me,” Rush said, revealing the only issue he actually cared about. Himself. And the assets he believed were his alone.

Brand wasn’t impressed with the patient’s worry. Rush lusted after this heart like an addict craves his next fix. He was too close now to back out, even if he wanted to. Which he surely did not.

“Her family will be well compensated,” Brand replied.

“How?”

The donor’s life wasn’t worth much. She’d made the choice to sacrifice herself for her family. Brand was a man of his word. The donor’s family would receive the promised fee.

This was the one thing that made Brand’s services more desirable to the poor donors than others offering the same service. Brand always paid the full fee. Other doctors were not so scrupulous.

Brand had perfected the process over the years, and it always ran smoothly. Everybody wins, as he’d said many times.

“That’s what life insurance is for.” Brand shrugged again. “Any other questions?”

“I’ve checked you out. People I trust have used you before,” Rush replied with a look that could only mean he’d put retaliatory measures in place should Brand fail to deliver as expected. “How long will I need to stay here afterward?”

“You’re not a prisoner, Jordan. You may leave anytime you wish. But we recommend that you stay at least a few days under our supervision before we transfer you to your own private physician’s care. And longer is better,” Brand replied. “There’s always the risk of rejection. We can’t guarantee your body will adapt as we hope it will.”

“That’s what the extra ten million is for. In case there’s a problem and we need to find another heart fast,” Rush said, nodding, repeating what Brand had told him in previous conversations. “I’m paying for two hearts, even though I should only need one.”

Brand narrowed his eyes. “To be clear. No refunds. Regardless of the outcome or results.”

“I understand.” Rush replied. “How long will the new heart last?”

“We talked about this. It varies, of course. About half of known transplant patients are still living after twelve years. Some live longer. At least one woman has lived more than forty years after a heart transplant,” Brand said. “The statistics are improving all the time.”

“And if my heart needs to be replaced in the future? You’ll be able to do another one, I assume,” Rush said, his anxiety popping through his control once again.

Brand smiled. “Let’s not borrow trouble, shall we? We’ll get your new heart installed and functioning tomorrow. After that, we’ll see.”

Rush looked a little green, but he nodded.

Brand pushed his chair back. “We’ll look for your payment tonight, and then we’ll see you in the hospital in the morning.”

Rush stood and the two men shook hands. Neither expressed any qualms about their bargain. Each was getting precisely what he wanted.

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